Taken
by Fyrefly12
Summary: Following on from Forgive and Forget, Fenris's life is turned around when Nasara is kidnapped in her second month of pregnancy. Merrill and Varric are Fenris's companions as he struggles to find his wife and unborn child.
1. Chapter 1

"Ah for fuck sake!"

Nas grabbed the small towel from the counter and wrapped it around her hand. Before she could summon her mana to heal the cut, the door to the small kitchen was wrenched open and a half naked elf stood in the frame.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Fenris took two long strides before he was filling her aura with his intoxicating presence. He grabbed her hand and pulled off the towel. Fenris poked the cut and Nas winced before she yanked her hand form his. He looked up at her with huge emerald puppy eyes.

"It's a cut. I'm fine."

As if enforcing her statement, Nas held her hand up to his eyes level and summoned a small ball of bright red mana in her palm. There was a tingling sensation before it vanished and left her hand perfectly cut free. Fenris continued to watch her as if she was about to collapse. Anger soared through her so easily that she surprised herself.

Part of her wanted to throw him through the wall. Instead, she turned and picked up the small knife again, slicing it over the potato and removing the skin.

She expected him to leave, but lately he had been doing things that surprised her. She felt his warm hands gently slip around her hips and his body lean against her back. His warm palms stopped on the small rise that was her womb. Her markings tickled as his lyrium caressed them. She felt her eyes close and her body come lose. She sighed inwardly. She was powerless against him.

Nas jumped as a high pitched cry pierced their moment. Both of them turned and saw Merrill standing awkwardly in the doorway. In her arms she cradled a squirming bundle of blankets and pink skin.

"Oh! I'm sorry! I – ill just-"

"No, Merrill, stay. I'm just making dinner. And what's this little man crying for, hm?"

Fenris let her go as Nas walked forward and reached out for the crying babe. She hushed and cooed to him as Merrill gently took his small figure. Looking down, Nas felt something stir in her chest. It was like looking down into Carver's face nearly twenty eight years ago. A flash of his dying face went through her mind before she blinked and sent it somewhere deep into the back of her mind.

The babe's face was delicate and lithe like it's mothers but his face was big and bulky like his father's. Painted across his cheeks were marks identical to Merrill's, but there was more added to them. Nas smiled, remember watching Varric go through his own Joining. To become Merrill's mate, he had had to have not only his Birth Marks but his Bonded Marks. And having them all at once made the dwarf look like a swollen punching bag. And it had taken nearly twelve hours for Merrill to tattoo them all.

According to the Dalish tradition, a babe born from a Bonded couple took a mixture of its parents markings. But they weren't tattooed onto the child's face permanently until their first year.

Nas tried to shake the idea away. There was no force on earth or paradise that would let Merrill tattoo a one year old. But that was something she wouldn't think about. For now, she had her own problem and priorities.

Her free hand went instinctively to the small rise that was her own babe. She ran her hand over her stomach, enjoying the feel of what was soon to be her own child.

She took a deep breath as she watched Tamlen open his big brown eyes.

Nas wasn't aware that everyone was watching her with the babe. She didn't see the way Merrill smiled and danced inwardly, or the way Fenris saw how much of a great mother his wife was going to become. All she saw was the way Tamlen studied her face and raised his hands to grab at the loose strands of her golden hair.

Nas turned her head. Fenris lay on his stomach with one hand by his face and the other no doubt dangling from the end of the bed. His hair stuck up wildly and he had kicked the covers off himself so much that they were in a crumpled heap by his feet.

She turned back to the book in her hands. Her eyes wondered over the words without actually taking anything in. She lowered the book and sighed. Her eyes wondered to the dark window.

Nas had never wanted to live in a forest. The one thing she had hated about Lothering was how close they were to the Wilds. She had gotten lost in the Wilds when she was younger and ever since that horrible day she had never thought she would step foot in a forest. And then she had gone to Kirkwall and ended up swashing through unidentifiable muck more times than she would care to count. And now she lived in the Brecillian Forest.

Nas snorted. _Oh, the irony._

For the precious few months that she had been pregnant, her body had become... odd. But it could have been from her new markings. Nas lifted up her hand. The markings glowed faintly in the candle light. They spread over the back of her hand and up her arm.

And she knew that they went around her whole body and even on her face. She was glad that in some ways the Old Magic of Meredith's sword had saved her. It had given her the power to save Kirkwall. But was it worth it? She couldn't even summon a small fire spell now without lighting up her whole body. She knew that she was powerful before, but now... she was a beacon of mana.

Nas looked over to her sleeping husband. His markings now to her looked so pure. In some ways, he had saved her just as much as the magic.

Fenris had never blinked an eye about her markings. He had accepted them with a quiet understanding.

But now against him, she felt evil – corrupted. The magic had done so much wrong. It had sent Bartrand insane. It had sent Meredith packing to the nuthouse. So why had it marked her and not consumed her? Anders had left as soon as they had landed on Ferelden shores.

Isabella had gone not long after that. Even Aveline and Donnic had left for Denerim. Only Merrill and Varric had stayed, and Nas guessed it was because Merrill had been far too pregnant to travel. She sighed.

Looking down at her barely visible bump, a wave of guilt swam over her. What would her baby come out like? Would it be something dark and twisted because of the corruption in her skin?

Her stomach clenched.

Taking another deep breath, she tried to calm her racing her heart. Her baby would be fine. It'll have Fenris' green eyes and her blonde hair.

_It will be perfect._

Her body relaxed and she picked up the book again. As she started to read, there was a small sigh from beside her. Looking down, she saw a groggy pair of eyes looking up. Reaching over, Nas gently brushed a strand of hair from his face.

"Can't sleep?"

Nas smiled and shook her head.

Fenris sat up and grabbed the blanket before lying back down. He opened his arms and Nas gently shuffled her way into his embrace.

She breathed him in deep. He smelt like oil, leather and earth. Since they came to the forest, Fenris seemed to have developed a... almost a connection to the earth. It seemed clichéd to her, but watching him dig in their small garden the day before, Nas saw how much he enjoyed the freedom. He would dig his hands completely into the earth and seemingly just to savour the feel.

Her body began to relax as she revelled in his warmth. It wasn't until a wave of nausea came over her that she jumped from the bed and grabbed the bucket in the far corner. Bringing up the remains of the rabbit stew she had made, Nas felt her whole body tremble. She hated being sick almost as much as she hated templars.

And she_ hated _templars.

Sinking onto the cold wooden floor, Nas cradled the stinking bucket. She wanted to put her hand on her stomach, but part of her was angry at the babe.

She had grown used to the idea that she would never have children. After the abuse when she was fourteen, the incident had left her scarred and had permanently severed her chance of children. Her father had only confirmed this. She remembered the day when he had had to tell her.

Nas hadn't been able to move from the bed for two weeks. Her father went to her every hour to trickle more healing magic into her, but no amount of magic healed a broken spirit. He knew that she had to heal that by herself.

"Sweetness," he had said. "I need to talk to you about... about your injuries."

She turned her head slowly away from the window. The bruises on her face had gone from a deep purple to a greenish-yellow, which shows they were healing, but they were a constant reminder of what had happened to her.

Nas looked at her father with dead eyes.

His lower lip trembled slightly as he took her hand. Nas felt him squeeze reassuringly, but part of her already knew what he was going to say.

"Sweetness, the knife that was dragged across your belly caught your womb... I..." his voice broke. There was a small part of Nas that wanted to comfort her father, but why should she? Where was he what she had been pinned down by two templars?

"Honey, I don't think you'll be able to have babies." His voice was barely a whisper.

Nas blinked. Without a word or even a twitch of emotion in her stony face, she slowly pulled her hand away from her father. She folded her hands together and rested them above the healing wound on her belly before turning her head and looking back towards the window.

Her father had leant forward and rested his forehead against her elbow. She felt his body wracking with sobs, but she still didn't comfort him. She didn't even look at him.

Nas sucked in a breath, drawing herself from the memory.

She looked down to the bucket she was cradling. Before she could really try to control herself, Nas felt a tear fall down her cheeks. She had blamed him for something he was powerless to stop. She had blamed him for the greed and lust of two corrupted men.

And now she could never tell him how sorry she was.

When Nas could walk again, she had fled Denerim by herself. Too long did she wonder Ferelden, killing herself slowly with alcohol, sex and drugs. It wasn't until she received word that a young mage-girl with raven black hair had been caught trying to buy information about Nas from a templar. Bethany had travelled to Amaranthine to find her, and got herself caught in the process. Nas had sobered herself up, bought out some mercenaries and ambushed the carriage that was taking Bethany to the Circle.

After that, Nas knew that her family needed her. And she had stayed with them ever since. Not long after her return, her father had died. But at least she got to see him before he did. Although she was too stubborn to apologise to him. She had seen it though, seen forgiveness in his liquid gold eyes.

She would always cherish that look in his face. He was proud of her.

Nas felt a sob escape her lips. She was sorry, to him, to herself. Sorry to the baby for being so weak. Sorry to her mother for letting her die. Sorry to Beth, and to Carver. She had let everyone down, and now they were all dead.

Her body slowly slid closer to the floor and soon she was curled in a ball around the bucket.

As her mind started to become foggy and her thoughts became sluggish, Nas barely felt it when Fenris hooked his arms under her body. She felt herself shiver in his arms before he gently lay her on the bed. He climbed in next to her and pulled the blanket over them.

Nas sniffed quietly before closing her eyes again and letting herself slip uneasily into the Fade.

A small breeze blew a strand of her hair over her nose, making her cheek twitch. She felt the cold in the Fade, as if something was following her. She hated coming back to the deserted plains of the Fade. Ever since she had been trapped here, reliving her worst memories over and over again, she couldn't go back to dreaming normally. She always came to the same spot. It was a deserted island floating above the Land of Dreams. She sometimes heard the laughter come from someone's dream. Sometimes she even felt like she recognised it.

Another breeze rolled by making her shiver.

There was a noise behind her and she turned. The only sight that greeted her was more deserted space. She frowned and started to turn back to admiring the Land below. Something caught the corner of her vision. It was like a shadow that was too quick for her eyes to catch.

Another shiver went through her, but this wasn't from the cold. There was something following her here.

_Naaaaaasssss..._

Nas spun around, trying to catch the shadow. "Who's there?"

_We ssssssee yoouuuu... we know you..._

"Know me how?"

_Your magic is sssssstrong..._

"What do you mean? Who the hell are you?"

_We aaaare coming... you will be oursssss..._

A bolt of lightning went through her as she sat up. The sun was barely shining through their small window as Nas panted. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat and small droplets of sweat ran down her face.

Her heart raced so quickly in her chest, she was sure it was going to crack something. Her markings were bright as if she had just cast a spell and her eyes were watering. Wiping the moisture from her lashes, Nas climbed from the bed.

Grabbing her trous from the floor, she dressed her bare legs and then wrapped herself in a thin cardigan that she had picked up from a small town on their way to the Brecillian forest.

Creeping across the cold floor, she looked over at Fenris's still sleeping frame. He was curled around himself, and his peaceful expression made her smile. But the smile was short lived when a shiver of pure dread crept down her spine. It was so strong that it made her gasp.

"Nas?"

Nas spun on her heel, calling her mana to her instantly. She dropped her defensive stance when she saw Merrill's eyes go wide and she cradles Tamlen closer to her chest.

Her markings lost their colour instantly and she sighed.

"I'm sorry Merrill... I just, didn't sleep well."

The elf nodded and loosened her grip on her baby. A wave of guilt flushed through Nas and she walked forward. Smiling at Merrill she looked down at Tamlen. His little cheeks had gotten chubby and his tiny ears had the slightest point at the tip.

"He used his magic last night."

Nas raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"

"I looked at his crib and he was glowing like a star."

Nas chuckled. "Smart boy."

Merrill nodded and looked down at the baby. Watching the way the elf studied the babe, as if nothing else in the world mattered, Nas felt jealous. As if in response, her stomach growled. Nas patted her belly and walked with Merrill into the kitchen.

Nas put water on the stove and started to cut bread slices as Merrill fed the baby.

When the toast and tea was done, they sat together at the small table and talked about mundane things. The conversation soon went quiet and Nas looked around the kitchen for something she could do. Her eyes landed on a small basket by the fireplace. Merrill had taught them all how to survive in the forest, and she had shown Nas which mushrooms and plants were good to eat.

The idea of walking alone in the early morning forest suddenly became a craving to her. She stood up and grabbed the basket.

"I'm going to go pick some... stuff. Whatever I can find."

Merrill gave her a weary look before nodding quickly. Nas walked towards the door and shoved her feet into her boots. She didn't bother with her cloak but as she strode out into the crisp morning, she regretted it. Ignoring the breeze against her skin, Nas trudged forward into the mass of trees.

He felt her absence as soon as he regained consciousness. The bed had a cold feel to it and reaching his hand over, his suspicions were confirmed.

Opening his eyes, he saw the crumpled emptiness of their bed. It wasn't unusual for her now. She hardly slept and rarely ate. He was hoping that it was because of the pregnancy, rather than... her change.

He was transported back to that battlefield in Kirkwall, hearing the way she screamed. He had felt her jump on him to protect him, but he couldn't bring his body to move. He fought tirelessly, but his body was exhausted.

It wasn't until Anders had gave him some energy that he was able to open his eyes and watch her as she ripped into the Knight-Commander.

She had been surrounded by a bright red light, but it seemed to move with her and not controlling her. He had watched her feed her magic into Meredith until she had overloaded and was turned to stone. After that, the magic cut light a candle being snuffed.

And that's when he saw the veins. The magic had embedded her skin just like his own, except hers were more violent. They were like scratches across her skin and they even went up and around her face. He had ran over to her and picked her up. When he saw her eyes though... he felt himself falter.

Her eyes had gone blood red.

It had startled him, to say the least. He felt the power surrounding her, but they were in too much of a rush to stop. He saw the way the rest of them had stared at her though, and he saw the hurt in her eyes. And he understood then. It was a moment of clarity that he'd never forget.

It didn't take him long to see that the magic had healed her whole body. Every scar, every broken bone. She had become a vision of perfection. He smirked to himself.

Not that she wasn't before.

But when she had told him... about the baby.

Fenris sat up and let the covers fall off him. He still didn't know what to feel. A part of him never wanted to stay still. He had gotten so used to moving, staying in Kirkwall for so long had been agonising. He was glad that they had ventured out of there every once in a while.

But having a child? That would root him down to one place. He had no qualms with being married, but staying in one home to raise a baby. He couldn't tell if he was anxious or scared.

But seeing Nasara, sitting in the light of a candle with a book in one hand and the other on her small bump. He could watch her for hours, if she didn't turn and glare at him with her red eyes that seemed to glow the angrier she got.

He heard a high pitched cry from the other room. Getting up and pulling on a shirt, Fenris wondered into the other room, following the smell of strong tea. He saw Merrill singing to herself as he walked into the kitchen. She was happily kneading dough. Her face was smeared with flour and it was all over her clothes. He saw the small basket on the table containing a sleeping baby.

"Merrill?"

The bloodmage turned ad gave him an innocent smile.

"Morning Fenris," she chirped.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. Merrill passed him a steaming mug and then turned back to her bread. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself looking into the basket. The boy slept soundly for such a young babe. From his knowledge of babies, they usually cried the majority of the time and when they didn't, they just seemed to whinge.

But Tamlen, as far as he knew, was a quiet baby. He watched as the baby raised its tiny hand and flexed his fingers. There was a jolt of surprise when he saw a tiny spark of green light that flickered between his tiny palms. A swell of anger went through him, but he pushed it down. He clenched and unclenched his fists until the anger was gone.

"Where's Hawke?" He winced. Part of him couldn't drop the habit of calling Nasara by her last name.

"I mean Nas."

"Oh, she went out to pick some mushrooms, I think."

Fenris nodded and took a sip from his mug. Merrill suddenly stopped and turned to him.

"Fenris..." He raised an eyebrow. "Can I ask you a question?"

He nodded.

"Is there anything wrong with Nasara? She seemed, I don't know... a little _jumpy_ this morning. She, uh... almost fried me."

"Fried you?"

"Yes, well... I walked out of my room the same time as she walked from hers and... she lit up like a lighthouse. She actually looked a little scary..."

Fenris studied the elf. She looked sheepish about talking about what was troubling her, but he saw genuine concern on her small face.

"She hasn't been sleeping well."

"Do you think it's the pregnancy?" He shrugged.

"What happened with you when you were pregnant?"

"Urm... I was the opposite, actually. I couldn't stay awake," she giggled nervously.

The room went quiet again as Merrill turned back to the dough. He understood the elf's concern, Nasara had seemed a little on edge lately.

"I'll see if I can find her."

Merrill nodded encouragingly as Fenris got to his feet. He turned to leave when he almost crashed into Varric. The dwarf gave him a smile, but Fenris saw the dark circles under his eyes.

Fenris changed quickly and wrapped himself up in his cloak. Before he left, he grabbed the red velvet cloak hanging on the hooks by the door. She usually forgot to wrap up in anything but what she was wearing. So, she was probably freezing.

He walked into the fresh morning and took a deep breath.

There was a small trail in the ground before him, with the distinct star imprint of her boots. Following her slowly, he let his mind wonder as he walked further into the forest.

He was so engrossed in his own mind that he didn't feel the change in the air until it practically danced on his skin. Fenris stopped dead. The very trees around him were silent. There was no sound around him and the air was thin. He itched to reach for the sword that wasn't on his back.

His body curled defensively. Fenris felt his senses come alive as the predator in him came alive. Something was wrong, and every fibre of him screamed at him to find his wife and unborn child.

"Nasara?"

His response was silence.

His eyes darted around wildly as he crept forward. And then the smell hit him.

It smelt like burnt hair.

Fenris ran forward until he stopped in the middle of a circle of burnt forest. The trees in the circle were char grilled and the ground was black. Magic crackled in the air and a basket full of mushrooms was tossed to the side.

His mind instantly went to the worst conclusion, and he felt panic starting to grip his mind. Then he saw the drag marks leading away from the burnt circle. His body came alive as he jumped over burnt ground and followed the trail.

Merrill wrung her hands again.

"Something is wrong."

Varric gently put his hand on the curve of her back. "They're fine."

"Varric they've been gone all day. They should be back by now... maybe we should look for them."

"Daisy I'm sure they just wanted some privacy."

But Merrill was already putting on her boots. He sighed and walked over to his babe in the basket. He grabbed another blanket from the back of a chair and wrapped it around him.

As he was about to grab the basket, he heard a gasp. Spinning on his heel, he was ready to pounce the intruder when he saw that the muddy figure was Fenris.

He stood, looming in the doorway. His whole body was covered in mud and his breathing was laboured. Merrill ran over to him, but the elf didn't see her. Varric saw something dangling from his clenched fist. After looking closer, he recognised it as Hawke's mother's locket. A locket that she never took off.

"It's Nasara. She's been taken."


	2. Chapter 2

She bent down and grabbed a handful of the small mushrooms clustered by the base of a tree. She let the damp earth spread over her hands. As the earth touched the red veins etched into her skin, she felt the tingling presence of magic. She smiled and sat down heavily on her rump.

The natural magic embedded in the earth was enough to soothe the senses and the mind. She revelled in its calmness. The cold morning told her how close winter had become.

She leant her back against the tree and remembered all those nights huddled in the Hanged Man, drinking watery whiskey and playing cards. Or the nights when Fenris would come over and they would share a bottle of wine while she taught him to read. Winter always seemed to bring a kind of peace over the world, and for a few hours people could sit back in their homes and enjoy silence.

Nas yawned.

She felt her body starting to relax as she shuffled herself into a more comfortable position. She let her mind wonder as the breeze caressed her face. She could hear the call of blackbird somewhere in the distance.

The last of the leaves were being rustled by the slight wind and she could hear them swaying. There was rustling in the undergrowth from some animal no doubt burrowing for food.

For that moment in time, Nas felt like the war inside her was still. She could feel the presence of her child within her, and she could already feel the magic it held. There was no doubt that the babe would be a mage. She still wasn't sure how she would tell Fenris that his child would be a mage. But she figured that she had at about six months or so left to tell him.

And then it came.

A gust of wind washed over her, bringing with it a dead silence. Nas felt the shift in the air instantly. Her skin started to prickle. She let out the breath she was holding, only to see it before her. Nas jumped to her feet, but the cold was becoming unbearable and she felt like she was turning to ice.

Looking around, there was a flicker of something dark that darted just from the corner of her sight. She raised her arms to call her magic, but another burst of freezing wind came over her.

She watched in horror as her skin began to crystallize. Nas didn't even have time to speak as she become a statue of ice.

The sensation of not being able to breathe made the panic inside her swell. And then she realised that if she died, so did her baby. Her mana veins erupted in a blast of bright red light, shattering the ice and sending a wave of fire around the clearing. Nas didn't pay any attention to the decimated forest around her. Her red eyes focused solely on the shadow walking towards her.

"Very good, Nasaraelia. I didn't think you had it in you."

The man before her seemed to be wrapped in shadows. His skin was pale as snow, and his hair was as black as the shadows around him. He wore black clothes and a black cloak that rustled as the shadows touched him. He gave her a smile, and Nas felt her breath hitch.

His eyes were... completely black.

"Maker..."

He chuckled. "Your Maker is not here, Nasaraelia. Just I... and a few of my friends."

The man opened his arms. As they parted, a trail of what looked like smoke went with them and danced around his hands. Nas lowered her body in a defensive stance and her mana flared with her, casting a red light over the darkness that surrounded them.

Surprisingly, the man just tisked at her.

"Foolish girl."

The man pushed his hands forward and the darkness obeyed, flying at her. It grabbed her and pinned her down, and Nas didn't have a chance to scream as she was dragged across the ground by sticky tendrils of darkness.

_She stood in a room. A room with no colour, no sound. No light. Her skin was bare and her soul was empty. She felt like she deserved this, being there, alone. A door materialized in front of her. She wasn't surprised to see it. It wasn't until it opened, and something walked in that Nasara realised she was dreaming. But she didn't dream._

_She went to the Fade. And she always knew she was in the Fade._

_The figure stopped before her and Nas felt her eyes well. It was a boy, no older than eight or nine. His skin was luscious and flawless. His hair was bright blonde and he looked down at her with emerald eyes. The boy smiled at her. It was a smile full of warmth and love. She instantly knew who he was._

"_Fenris?"_

_The boy chuckled. _

"_No, Mamma."_

_She gasped. Nas put her hands over her mouth before she reached out to touch him. Part of her was terrified that she was dreaming. But what if she wasn't? _

"_You're beautiful," she whispered._

_The boy opened his arms. Nas hesitated before she grabbed her son and held him as close to her body as she could. He was warm, and breathing, and real. _

"_So are you, mamma."_

_Nas let out a cry and she ran her hand through his hair. She took his shoulders and held him in front of her before getting to her knees so she could see him better. She gently pushed some of his fringe from his eyes. He frowned._

"_Mum..."_

_She let herself drink him in. He was perfect. Every part of him. _

"_Now isn't that sweet?"_

_Nas stood up and grabbed her boy, holding him behind her as she faced the intruder. And she froze._

"_Anders?"_

_He stood before her with his arms crossed. There were lines on his face, making him look haggard and old. His hair was tied back messily, and it gleamed with grease. His robes were torn and blood stained. Everything about him seemed weary, and part of her wanted to go to him. But another part held her boy and he was clutching her back in fear._

"_Mamma, make the mean man go away."_

_Nas frowned and looked down. Her boy had tears in his glittering eyes._

"_Anders, what's..?"_

"_Step away, Nasara. This need not involve you."_

"_Involve me? Anders, he's my fucking son."_

"_No. He is an abomination."_

_Nas laughed humourlessly. "You're one to talk."_

_Anders' eyes never left the boy, and Nas felt a surge of anger come over her. She put one foot forward, urging him to take her on._

_Anders sighed._

"_Fine."_

_He raised one hand and Nas felt something grab her. She was thrown across the room before slamming into the wall. She landed heavily on her hip. Nas sucked at the air, but nothing seemed to want to go into her lungs._

_She was barely able to turn her head in time to see Anders throw a ball of lightning at her son._

_Nas tried to scream but the burning in her lungs was overpowering. She watched in horror as her son raised his arms above his head and crouched defensively. Nas sobbed as she gasped, calling desperately at the mana that was ignoring her. _

_The lightning stopped and Nas closed her eyes. She didn't want to see him. But she would destroy Anders. She would rip him limb from limb. She would-_

"_What the...?"_

_Nas opened her eyes at Anders' tone. _

_The boy was still in his defensive position, but his body was being shielded by a sphere of glowing white mana. She watched as the sphere disappeared and the boy stood up. Something about him changed as he looked at Anders. She saw something swirling around him. Something that looked like black smoke. _

"_That wasn't very nice."_

_His young voice was shadowed by another, deeper voice. Nas's eyes went wide as the boy raised his arms as Anders called another spell. Anders went to throw the magic but the boy was too quick, throwing a spell so powerful at him that the light pierced her eyes. _

_When it stopped, Nas put her hands over her mouth. Anders was lying on the ground, a gaping hole through his chest. The boy turned to her, the same glittering emerald eyes that she loved so deeply. Nas felt the fear deep within her, but she couldn't shake the love she felt for the boy. How could she abandon her own son? Without looking at Anders, Nas opened her arms and welcomed the boy with blood on his small hands._

She sat bolt upright, smacking her head on something. Nas cried out and fell back heavily, cracking her head on the solid ground. As she lay cradling her forehead, she realised that she was moving. Or whatever she was in was moving. She was rocking to and fro. As the throbbing pain on her forehead started to dim, Nas let her eyes adjust to the darkness.

She sat up again, slower this time, and let her hands explore what was above her. She could feel all four sides of something rough around her. The splinter that lodged itself in her finger told her that she was in some kind of wooden box. It was square, like a crate.

There was a swirl of panic inside her, but Nas pushed it down. She opened her palm, calling a small fireball for light.

And nothing happened.

Nas frowned. She pushed at the markings along her skin, willing them to ignite. And again, the crate remained dark. Her breathing quickened as the panic surged up her throat. Instincivly, Nas put her hand on her stomach. Feeling the small rise there, a snippet of relief pushed the panic back to the pit of her stomach.

It was then that she felt something wrapped around her wrists. Her eyes could just make out a black band wrapped around each of her wrists. She felt around one, but there was no catch to undo it. Nas tried to pull the bands off, but when she did, they went rigid like steel. When she let them go, they turned back to soft leather.

She grit her teeth. "Fucking magic enchantments."

Nas tried once again to summon a fireball, but the red markings remained dormant. Finally, she sat back. Her neck was angled awkwardly. She sat for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. She had been taken by the creepy shadow man. But how?

All she remembered was blackness, being dragged over the forest and then... nothing.

And not only did the bands drain her mana, it felt like they were tugging at her energy. A familiar rumbling started in her stomach before a sharp stab of hunger. She sighed. Finally deciding on the only thing she could do, Nas got uncomfortably to her knees.

Raising her fists, she took a deep breath and braced herself.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE YOU COCK SUCKING ROACHES!"

The ground beneath him became a blur. His senses came alive with every step he took. The wind rustled his hair and the cold against the lyrium made him shiver. He hadn't felt this alive in years. Jumping over a fallen log, Fenris let his body become liquid as he slid around trees, branches and bushes. He revelled in the freedom of running, but only until the crushing emotion overwhelmed him and he had to stop.

He felt like his heart was being squeezed inside his chest, and then he rolled his eyes. The irony just made his chest ache worse. The thought of Nas in the clutches of someone else. The idea that she could be dead...

Fenris pulled the emotionless mask over his face. He reached behind him to check his sword was still secure before taking a long breath. Breathing out, he started forward again at a harder pace than before. His legs burned and every breath felt like it was crushing his lungs – but it was a better pain than the heartache he felt at his wife's absence.

Merrill reached down and let her fingers trace Tamlen's smooth belly. He raised his small hands up to his face and scratched his nose before falling back into his peaceful sleep. A small tuft of black hair was growing on his head, and Merrill gently brushed it with her hands. Cocking her head, she moved some hair to look at his little ears.

Part of her was proud that there was the faintest point at the tip, but part of her was worried. She knew her Mate was a proud man. He would never admit it, but he was. And she knew he was so proud to have a son. But she was worried that he might be disappointed if Tamlen grew up Elvhen.

After what had happened to Bartrand, Varric had been given a new look on his dwarven heritage. What if Tamlen wasn't a dwarf?

She sighed. Of course he was a dwarf. But there was a possibility that he wouldn't have the same... _stature_ that the Durgen'len were famous for.

The creaking of a door brought Merrill from her thoughts. A familiar face peered around the corner before charging in like the strong women she was.

"Aveline!"

Aveline was at Merrill within two strides and she engulfed the small mage in a bone-crushing embrace. Merrill squeaked as the air was pushed from her lungs. Aveline let her go but kept her hands firmly on the mage's shoulders. Merrill smiled.

_Same old Aveline._ Her bright orange hair was tied back in its usual lazy ponytail and the band she wore to keep her fringe from her eyes was the same brown leather. She wore different armour this time though. Her usual dull grey and orange armour of the Guards was now replaced with a shiny metal plate. It was so shiny, Merrill could see her reflection in it.

Creators, she was a mess.

"Merrill! What's happened?"

Aveline's soft green eyes became stern in an instant. It wasn't until the soft mumbling of Tamlen that Aveline noticed the little thing. Merrill saw something unfamiliar in the guard's eyes as she walked to the baby. With two quick movements, Aveline took off her gauntlets and picked up the babe. She held him with such care that Merrill looked on in awe.

She watched as Aveline stared down at him. She was so full of longing that it made Merrill feel uncomfortable.

"Aveline?"

The guard jumped as if she had forgotten Merrill was there. She coughed as a little colour appeared in her cheeks. Handing the baby quickly back to its mother, Aveline took a seat at the wooden table.

"What's happened, Merrill? I imagine that you didn't come all the way to Denerim just for a hello."

Merrill put Tamlen gently back into his wicker basket and put the blanket over him. She took a seat next to the warrior. Taking her hand, Merrill tried to look into her soft green eyes. As soon as she did, her own eyes welled with tears.

"Aveline... its Nasara... she went out to collect some mushrooms and... she didn't come back. Fenris went out to look for her and was out there for hours. He had found the sight of very powerful magic and drag marks... then he found her ring. He told me to come to you. Varric has gone to Gwaren to see if he can find Isabella."

Aveline nodded, her face was stony and serious.

"Did he say where he was going?"

Merrill shook her head. "I think _he_ doesn't even know where he's going."

Aveline got to her feet. Merrill couldn't help but feel young in her presence. Aveline had always intimidated her, but now she just felt pale in comparison.

"We need to find her. I'm going to try and get an audience with the Queen and see if she will grant me a leave of absence. Donnic can cover my position while I'm gone... Has anyone else been contacted? Anders?"

Merrill shook her head. "We don't know where he is."

Aveline nodded. Merrill could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

"You should stay here, Merrill. Under the Queen's protection. Lady Anora is fierce, but kind. She will shelter you until Nasara is found."

Aveline got to her feet dismissively. Merrill joined her, opening her mouth to argue. Aveline sent Merrill her famous 'and that is all' look. The elf closed her mouth instantly. She watched as the guardswoman looked over at the baby. She brushed his chubby cheek with her finger before the warrior replaced the woman. Aveline gave her one quick hug before heading to the door.

"I'll have a word with Her Majesty. Just stay here with the baby. Stay safe, Merrill."

Merrill nodded as Aveline walked through the door, closing it behind her. She sat on a chair and pulled the wicker basket close to her. She wanted to hold him, draw comfort from him. But waking him wouldn't be fair. Instead she let a small ball of her magic brush his cheek and neck. The baby sighed contently an Merrill was filled with an overwhelming feeling of love. She had a connection to her babe that no one would ever understand. She had never really understood why everyone had been so protective of her.

Not until she held Tamlen in her arms for the first time. She vowed to the Creators, then and there, that she would forever protect her child. She would live and breathe for him, die for him. She would sell her soul to a demon for him.

And then she understood why they all loved her so much. She had been the babe, then. Back when she had walked into the chaotic civilized world. And now it was her time to be the mother, the protector.

And just as Hawke and Isabella and Fenris and Anders and Aveline and Varric had done, and vowed to protect her, so she would protect them. The Dalish never let a clan mate be left in danger. And so she would never let her clan sister, her Lethellan, be left behind. Aveline could tell her to stay as much as she wanted, if it made her feel better. But Merrill was going to find her Lethellan. Just as Nasara would do for her.

It took nearly a full hour of screaming before they finally open the goddamned crate. Nas was blinded by light so bright, that she was sure her pupils were fried.

Shadows reached out and grabbed her, dragging her into the freezing air before letting her collapse in a heap on the frosted ground. Nas inhaled sharply but was cut short as she was hauled forward. Her head whipped back painfully. Her vision was blurred and all she could feel was the nausea in her stomach as her world went vertigo.

Suddenly, she was slammed back into solid ground. Literally.

Nas made some kind of noise as whatever held her let her go. The change was so quick that she felt her vision go black.

"Ah, careful now."

Something caught her wrist before she fell backwards, keeping her upright. The world around her kept spinning horribly, but Nas was able to blink enough to clear her vision. She noticed the otherworldly beautiful man that had taken her sat opposite her. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but it was nothing compared to the chill that made her shiver.

The man just watched her curiously as she tried to get her bearings. She was sat on a log around a low burning campfire. They were still in a forest, but from the look of the thinning trees, they were closer to the mountains now. Where in Andraste's flaming ass were they taking her?

"I suppose you have many questions."

Nas narrowed her eyes. Maker, even his voice was sickly sweet. She didn't remember everything about being taken, but she could never forget him. There was something so horribly familiar about him that part of her wanted to be sick.

He grunted in some kind of laugh before looking back down into the steaming bowl of whatever he was eating. Nas's stomach lurched at the thought of food, but she tried to keep herself calm. It wasn't the first time she had been kidnapped, and she had guessed it wasn't going to be her last. Everyone wanted a piece of her.

"It is not what you are thinking, Nasaraelia."

Nas's eyes went wide before she crossed her arms over her chest. Maker... could be read her thoughts?

"Only the thoughts on the surface, my dear."

Panic welled in her chest and she prayed for her mind to remain still. She filled her head with useless advice and training, willing him to get out of her head. She screamed incoherent words and the bombardment made the man flinch.

"Yes, yes, I get it. I have pulled from your mind."

Nas narrowed her eyes, thinking of the worst insults that she could think of. She kept staring into his black eyes, but there was no understanding of what she had said. Finally, she let her mind stop. She kept it as blank as she could.

"Do you have no questions?"

She watched him for a few moments before she finally answered. "Some."

He surprised her by barking a short laugh.

"Some? I would have thought you would have many. Why don't you begin with the first and I shall answer to the best of my ability."

"Why have you taken me?"

"Because I was paid to. Next question."

Nas wanted to stab his smug grin in the face, but she managed to stay surprisingly calm around him.

"And what does your employer want with me?"

"My employer did not specify, for it is none of my business. Next question."

Frustration burned behind her eyes. This was _not _a fun game to play.

"Please... where are you taking me?"

Something in her voice must have touched his humanity for the man turned to her. For a moment, he almost looked like a regular man. It wasn't until she saw the shadows clawing at him, like they did in the forest, that Nas felt true fear shudder through her.

"I am taking you to Tevinter, to the magister that hired me to find the 'mage made from red lightning'. The I will be paid, and you shall no longer be of my concern."

He looked away from her a little too quickly, and Nas could sense there was more that he wasn't telling her. She studied him as he studied the fire. The way in which the shadows curled around him was unsettling, to say the least, but the more she watched, the more she could see them. They didn't cling to him, the shadows almost caressed him. A strand would fly from the shadow of the fire, reach out and brush up against him like some cat.

"What is your name?" she asked finally, more to break the silence than anything.

He looked a little taken aback by her question, and answered with a shrug. "Daern."

"Well, Daern. I hope that you have made peace with your Maker, because I swear to you, you will die a horribly painful death."

Daern smirked at her and the shadows intensified around him. The sky seems to go black as the shadows came alive, engulfing her in their sticky tendrils.

"No, little mortal," his voice was otherworldly, as if he was speaking through the voice of a monster. "It is you that will die, for the magic that lies in your skin."

Nas's last glimpse of light was the crimson burning in his crimson eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"You're a fool if you think you can outrun your destiny, Nasara."

"No? I wouldn't fucking bet on it."

There was a slight niggling in her arm, which soon turned to sharp little pinpricks. It roused her from her unconsciousness bit by bit, until she finally opened her eyes.

Nas was lying on her side, crushing her left arm. She could feel the rough wood underneath her, but the sunlight danced along her skin and a breeze ruffled her hair. Moaning as she turned, Nas tried to push herself up, but was stopped as she realised her hands were bound. She looked down to see the two black leather bands had somehow linked themselves together. Using her elbows, she managed to prop herself up enough to see she was sitting in the back of a wagon. Two large crates were by her side, and she guessed that was what she was in to start with.

"You're awake."

Her head snapped around to see Daern riding a pure black horse. The shadows seemed to surround the horse as well, and she shuddered to think what kind of beast it actually was.

"Really? How'd you guess?"

Daern chuckled, much to her surprise. She narrowed her eyes at him and studied him, trying to figure out why he looked so familiar. She could have sworn that she had never seen him before in her life. He could have just looked like someone she had met, maybe even killed.

He continued to watch her with a smug look on his face. His eyes were so empty and yet she could see the amusement in them. The one thing she knew for sure was that he scared her, for more than one reason.

They continued studying each other for longer than she cared to admit.

Eventually, Nas found her voice. "Who are you?"

"I am Daern. I thought we had established that much."

"Oh, you're real cute."

"Thank you."

Nas frowned and closed her mouth. She wanted to throw a nice flaming ball of magic at him, but she could feel it was being subdued. It was like something had put a layer of thick glue over her skin, stopping her magic from being released. Just as she was about to open her mouth with a rather colourful insult, there was a shout from up ahead.

Daern nudged his horse forward, moving out of her sight. She tried to turn her body to see what was happening, but it was difficult to move in such a small space.

Before she could get a good look, Daern appeared again atop his horse. With fluid movements, he raised his leg and dismounted. He patted the beast's neck and it shook its head in a whinny. Nas's eyes widened as the horse reared and the shadows around it started to get darker and thicker. It engulfed the horse and with a _whoosh_, the shadows and the horse were gone. Nas felt the stunned look on her face, but she couldn't change it. Turning to Daern, he gave her a curious look. Nas blinked and her face turned back into its confused frown.

"Sorry to have to do this again."

"Do what-"

Her words were cut short as Daern reached over to her. He grabbed her arm but Nas pulled it away. She kicked out as he reached for her again, and she was glad at the crunch that accompanied it. Daern was lurched backwards, and he stumbled, holding his face.

When he pulled his hand away, Nas gulped. She saw the shadows pulsing around him and they seemed to move quicker. She could see the ice cold look on his face as blood streamed down his mouth and over his chin.

With speed she couldn't comprehend, Daern disappeared into the shadows and reappeared by her side. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, causing some kind of noise to escape her lips.

"Do you think this is a game?" he hissed. His voice was shadowed by another inhuman voice. Everything around him radiated power that she didn't understand. His grip pulled at her hair and Nas grit her teeth against the pain. He looked deep into her eyes and she could see the blackness there was swirling too. It was as if he was made of shadows.

Suddenly, his faced softened. He let her go and pushed her away, jumping down from the cart. He grabbed the edge of a crate and pulled a side off with ease.

"Get in."

"I'm not getting in a fucking-"

Shadows surrounded her, covering her in sticky black tendrils. They wrapped themselves around her waist, arms and legs and effortlessly lifted her from the wagon. They dragged her kicking and screaming into the crate. Nas saw a glimpse of Daern's stony face before the crate was sealed and she was engulfed by darkness.

"What do you mean by 'gone', Aveline?"

"Gone. Taken. Vanished. Kidnapped. Take your pick."

Aveline grabbed the pair of trous from the floor and shoved them roughly into the satchel she was holding. Donnic stood ten paces away from her, watching her with his arms crossed. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn't stop packing. The room around them was small, but it was enough for their needs. They had one of the biggest rooms in the barracks. They were lucky.

"But where are you going to go?"

Aveline sighed in frustration before standing straight and facing him. His wonderfully warm brown eyes watched her and she hated the sadness she saw in them.

"I'm going to go to the Brecillian forest where she was taken and try to retrace her steps. I've sent word to all the notable people in Ferelden, as well as Knight-Commander Cullen in Kirkwall. The queen even suggested sending a letter to the Empress of Orlais and the King of Antiva. I'll see what I find first before getting the royalty involved… I have to find her, Donnic. She's my best friend."

Her husband nodded gently, and in the private presence of her husband, Aveline let her shoulders slump. She felt the worry stir deep within her, and the guilt about leaving her alone in the forest with no protection. She should have stayed with her, she should have…

Donnic wrapped his strong arms around her, and Aveline breathed in his wonderful smell. It was a mixture of oil and metal. There was also a hint of wildflower on him where he patrolled the palace and the fields around them. She wanted nothing more than to bring him with her, for comfort more than anything, but she knew that Denerim needed a Guard-Captain. She was surprised when the position was offered to her on her arrival to Ferelden. The queen and accepted her into the guards, and when she had received a glowing letter of recommendation from Cullen, she was put forward for the position and she got it. It was good to be in control again, and having Donnic as her second was an added bonus.

But it still didn't feel like home. Yes, she was an honoured war hero. Yes, she was now the Guard-Captain to royalty. Yes, she was being selfish… but she missed Kirkwall. She missed the people that had become friends. She missed seeing all those familiar faces, walking through the Viscount's halls. More than anything, she missed following Hawke. After all the trouble that they managed to get themselves into, Aveline had never been happier than when she was dealing justice Nas's way.

She sighed. Giving Donnic one last kiss, Aveline turned and walked from the barracks. As the door closed, she sent a silent prayer to the Maker. _Please, keep him safe._

There was a loud creak before the crate door was pulled open again. Nas didn't look at whoever it was. She lay in the foetal position, as it was the most comfortable one she could get into in such a small space.

It was hard not to kick out at whoever was by her feet. She knew that she would deal some damage, but the memory of Daern's face was enough to subdue the urge. There was some kind of grunt, but Nas still didn't look down. She didn't even blink. And then there was a pressure on her ankles before her body was yanked effortlessly downwards. The wood scraped against her side and she cried out as she was brought into the chill of the evening.

Her vision was momentarily impaired as she was righted. The hands were holding her under her armpits, as one would pick up a small child. Her feet were dangling several inches from the ground. Nas felt that her hands had become unbound, but the bracelets still hung heavily on her wrists.

Looking up with stinging eyes, Nas saw the beast of a man that was holding her. He was bigger than any Qunari that she had ever faced, even bigger than the Arishok. He had a mop of greasy hair on his head that was a mess of tangles and knots. It hung over his face, blocking her view. She wanted to glare into his stupid eyes and maybe even go for a slap or two. The man grunted again, but this time it was softer, almost like a whimper. She was set of gently onto the floor that all anger seemed to disappear.

He let her go and took a step back whilst wringing his hands. Nas frowned, wondering what this creature was. He was muscled up to the neck but his clothes were dirty and his boots had holes in them.

She opened her mouth to speak when the man looked up and then down quickly. He bowed to her a little and then turned and walked away. There was a crunching sound and Nas saw what the man had been looking at.

Daern walked in her view, blocking all sight of the giant man.

Nas found herself looking up at the shadow-man. Seeing him in the dark was even more foreboding than in the light. He seemed to shift from a body to the darkness. It was hard to keep her focus on him because as soon as she looked at a particular place, it would dissolve into the shadows.

She crossed her arms and looked away, determined to ignore him. Her side still burned and she could feel the warmth of blood seeping down her leg.

Daern's eyes suddenly went to her side and even through the haze of evening, it was if he could see perfectly. He took two long strides towards her and reached out to touch her. Nas jumped back as if he was made of fire and she could swear that she saw sadness flit over his face.

The shadow-man stood up straight and gestured to a small group of men sat around a campfire about twenty paces away. They were off road on a rocky surface and their camp was covered by a large rock that towered over their left side, hiding the firelight from the main road's view. The smell of something meaty drifted over to her and despite herself, she felt her stomach rumble and her mouth water. Ignoring Daern, Nas stomped forward but stopped as the pain in her side made her stumble. Daern grabbed her arm and steadied her, but Nas ripped it from his grasp. She wouldn't give the bastard the satisfaction.

As she approached the small group, five pairs of eyes turned to her. It was a colourful bunch to say the least. The giant was sat towards the back cradling a bowl that looked like a thimble in his huge hands.

The man closest to her was aged, at least fifty or so. He looked like he could still wield a greatsword however, and his flickering silver aura told her that he was either a psychopath, or a serious man. The man sat to his right was a huge man with skin as black as night, and strange markings spread all over his body. They looked like some kind of symbol, but Nas had never seen a man with such dark skin before. His hair was cut short to a thin layer on his head. His dark eyes shimmered from the light and his aura shone a brilliant gold. The boy beside him had an aura that sparkled with all different shades of blue and yellow. She could see from his big eyes that he wasn't old at all. Sixteen, maybe seventeen. He was a scrawny thing with shaggy hair and curious eyes.

The last man around the campfire was the man who caught her attention the most. He had a perfectly sculpted body and beautiful golden hair. However her eyes were drawn to the horrific scar that marred the right side of his face. It looked like something had clawed him as there were three distinct jagged lines. His right eye was completely white and the corner of his eyes was pulled downwards slightly, as was his lip.

"Looks like she's taken a fancy to you, Rick."

Nas felt the heat of shame in her cheeks as the group giggled. She looked down and then up again, almost thankful to see the marred man was smiling along with his fellows.

Daern walked into view and past her, sitting down next to the serious man. Nas looked behind her and wondered how far she could get in the darkness.

"I wouldn't recommend it, Nasara. Archer here would pin you down before you could get ten steps away."

Nas sent a glare at Daern before looking at the young lad. He gave her a bashful smile and then turned his attention back to his bowl. She shifted from one foot to another, debating whether or not she should sit. The chill was making the ends of her fingers start to swell and a shiver came over her.

"Sit down would you girl? You're making me head spin," said the serious man without looking up from his dinner. Nas walked slowly around the group before sitting on the floor slightly away from them. She was closer to the giant, which in some strange way, she preferred.

It should have been intimidating, having something so big at her back, but Nas found the giant's aura comforting. It was a shimmering blue, and painstakingly similar to-

_No. Don't even think his name. It won't help you._

Nas swallowed back the lump in her throat and brought her hand to rest on her womb. It was a slight movement but she felt all eyes briefly flickered to her. These men were on an edge that Nas was all too familiar with. She knew instantly then what they were.

"You're mercenaries."

They all turned to her. The darkness around her seemed to hold it's breath and Nas felt herself shift uncomfortably. Instinctively, she started to shuffle back, only to be stopped as she hit the giant's boot.

Suddenly, the dark-skinned man laughed.

It was a deep, booming sound that vibrated through her chest. The older man laughed as well, until the entire group were laughing at her. Surprisingly, Nas was furious. She then noticed the wineskins lying around the fire. She shook her head and folded her arms over her knees, sighing.

The men started talking between themselves, eating whatever was in the pot hanging over the fire. Her stomach growled but she wasn't offered any food. She was beginning to wonder why they had taken her from the crate when something pulled the shoulder hem of her dress. Nas frowned and turned to see the giant staring at her. She could make out a pair of blindingly beautiful eyes from underneath the greasy mess of hair hanging over his face.

He grunted at her, drawing her attention to the half-empty bowl in his hands. He lifted it to her, and she saw he was giving her his stew.

Confusion swept over her then.

What the hell was this?

She had been kidnapped. This wasn't the first time it had happened, but this was by far the strangest abduction. Usually she was taken to a place, usually somewhere dark and dank, subdued and left until she was saved by her companions.

But this? This was… weird. She had been bound, yes. Put into a tight place, yes. But let out? Brought to the camp? Offered food? No. Never.

The giant blinked at her and his aura flickered a deep, sad blue. Nas reached forward in her confusion and took the bowl. She could make out a small smile and his aura flushed a happy yellow. She turned around and brought the stew to her lips, draining the contents without chewing the chunks. At one point, some potato got stuck in her throat and she coughed so violently that stew sprayed from her mouth and some even through her nose.

This caused another round of laughter from the group.

"Take it easy, girl. Ain't enough for you to go round spittin' it out."

Nas studied the man from the rim of the bowl. He had lines on his face from a life of hardship, and scars over his skin from no doubt multiple fights. There was something about him, something familiar that she couldn't quite place.

The stew was heavy in her belly and it brought a wave of exhaustion over her. She listened to the men talk about something trivial before her head began to fall forward and her eyes started to close.

The world around her went vertigo and she felt weightlessness before being put back into what she guessed was the crate. There was a brush of something cold on her leg before the stinging went, leaving her to completely fall into the Fade, but not before a whisper of something foreign brushed her ears.

"_Este re, Felethm'lin."_

The pain rushed through him, making him stumble. He stopped and leant forward onto a broken tree trunk. His breathing was laboured and he cursed himself for letting his body become so slack. The weight of the sword on his back was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and parts of him that he hadn't used in years were aching.

The forest around him was eerily silent, except for the scurrying undergrowth every now and then. He moved to step forward but cried out as his knee buckled and he fell into the curve of the trunk. His sword dug into his back, and in the shadow of twilight, Fenris admitted defeat.

He forced himself into a sitting position and drew the sword from his back. He laid it flat over his lap and stared into the polished metal.

In his haste, he hadn't brought any supplies, any food or water. He hadn't taken anything from the hut except his sword and armour. His hand flew to his chest where his clawed hand wrapped around the small silver locket. The aching in his chest began then, and this time it wasn't from exhaustion. He ground his teeth together, fighting back the pain.

Finally, he sighed. He put his face in his hands and tried to gain control of his emotions.

Part of his knew that he had lost her trail miles ago. He had just been running ever since. He didn't know whether he was running further towards her or further away. He couldn't think about it. He couldn't face the fact that he had absolutely no idea where his wife was. He didn't know why she had been taken. He didn't know where she was being taken. He… he just didn't know.

The anger welled up inside his. It was a huge ball of fire in his chest that was burning him from the inside out. The forest around him was cast in an otherworldly blue light as his markings reacted to his emotions.

Fenris let out a cry and struck out until his hand connected with something hard. There was a satisfying crunch as splinters of wood flew from the tree and bounced off the bushes around him. There was some pain in his fist but he revelled in it. It was easier to concentrate on the physical pain rather than the heart-crushing emotional pain. He could understand physical pain. He could deal with it.

It was this pain that brought him back into his right mind. A small list formed in his head, a list from his days on the run.

Food. Water. Shelter. Warmth. Rest.

He got to his feet and started to follow his list, keeping his mind clear of everything. Especially Nasara's wonderful face.

The sun kissed the horizon gently, but Varric didn't notice. The morning was always a peaceful time for him. He would always try and wake up just a few minutes before sunrise to watch it. He was a fan of imagery and beauty, being a weaver of stories. But this morning he hardly noticed.

The sound of the city filled his ears and he kept his head low. The hood of his cloak was pulled down and because of his size, people just ignored him, thinking him some lost kid. He played this to his advantage, moving through the throng of people practically invisible. Bianca sat comfortably by his side, but even her smooth surface couldn't bring his spirits up.

He was cold. He was tired. He was hungry. And he missed his family.

He never intended to leave them again. Ever. He would find somewhere safe for them both to live; he would keep them safe and provide for them. He had plans of moving into the city a couple of months after what happened in Kirkwall blew over, staring his own little merchant business. He would make dwarven bows and crossbows, maybe start a trading link with Orzamar. He would keep Merrill and Tamlen protected, maybe by buying out the Templars. His son would grow up in a place where there was no fighting. He would send him to school, get him educated in something and keep him as far away from the underworld as he possibly could.

But life had its ways of keeping misery alive.

What happened in Kirkwall was starting a war. The mages across the sea were turning on the Templars, and they were beginning to learn their own strengths. He didn't know if it was a good thing or not. Some mages would only seek freedom, others would seek power.

Power in the hands of fools was never a good thing.

He turned a corner and stopped in a small alleyway. Varric pulled down his hood and brushed his hair back with his hand. Exhaustion was tugging at him. He had spent almost all his money buying his way to Gwaren. He had only just made it to the city but it had been three straight days of travel.

Varric had only been to Gwaren twice in his life, and it was just as unremarkable as the last two times. The city smelled like piss and salt. The people smelled even worse. It was typical port town. Plenty of ships, plenty of brothels and plenty of taverns.

He hadn't spotted Isabella's ship in the port, but for all he knew, she could have lost it already in a game of poker.

He smiled at the memories, but it was quickly snuffed as reality crushed his shoulders. He pulled up his hood again and started through the dirty streets. He opened the door to the first tavern and went straight to the barman. There were only a few stubborn drinkers still at the tables, some asleep and some still steadily drinking themselves to death.

Varric climbed onto a barstool so that the barman noticed him. He walked slowly to the dwarf and looked at him sleepily.

"I'm looking for someone."

The barman raised an eyebrow.

"A woman-"

"You and me both, mate," said the barman with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Varric didn't laugh. He continued to watch the bartender until he shifted uncomfortably.

"What kind of woman, mate?"

"Her name is Isabella, she's a Rivaini woman. A captain, if she's still got a ship-"

"About thirty, sexy as hell – dynamite in bed?"

A small smile crept over Varric's lips then. Oh, that Rivaini. The bartender chuckled and raised an empty mug. Varric sighed half-heartedly and nodded. The man poured a fresh tankard and handed it to Varric.

"She break your heart, mate?" asked the man.

Varric smiled and shook his head. "She's an old friend."

The bartender smiled knowingly, but Varric noticed the sadness in his tired eyes. He was an older man, strongly built and his black hair was sprinkled with silver. He would have been Isabella's first target.

The dwarf took a sip of the ale and the taste melted his insides. Before he knew it, the tankard was empty and he was falling asleep on the stool.

"Need a room, mate? You look like shit."

Varric let out a small laugh and was about to reply with something witty when he was cut off by a yawn. He nodded his head and the bartender gestured for him to follow. He was taken to a small room, basic, with a double bed. Varric handed the man five silvers and the bartender left him in peace.

Varric shuffled forward, dropping his pack and cloak on the floor. He kicked off his boots and then fell onto the scratchy sheets. He didn't even bother to get in the covers. Sleep was pulling him down but Varric found himself reaching over to the bare, cold left side of the bed. He wrapped his hands in the sheets.

"Goodnight, Daisy."


End file.
